


Disgusting

by ugandadistrict9



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Crushing, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, mentions of tucker/grif, purple team, this is gay, tucker and donut are grimmons shippers dont @ me, tucker and grif friendship is strong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:37:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7371253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ugandadistrict9/pseuds/ugandadistrict9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif and Simmons are embarrassing dorks and Tucker and Donut enjoy every minute of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disgusting

**Author's Note:**

> this isnt that good but hey i spent time writing it and i havent uploaded any rvb fic yet so i just figured?? hell why not... enjoy?  
> im not sure i like how i write donut but ghgghkg whatever its fine

“Tucker,” Grif sighed heavily. “Can I ask you something?”

  
“Me?” Tucker looked over at his enemy. “Sure. Shoot.”

  
“Okay, not to turn you into the relationship advice guy or anything, but... Do you think Simmons would date me?”

  
“Pffff, what?”

  
“I mean, speaking hypothetically. Like, if I wanted him to -- which I don't, by the way -- but if I did, do you think, hypothetically, that he would want to date me?”

  
Tucker raised an eyebrow. “ _Hypothetically_ ,” he said, “maybe. I mean, I don't know him very well, but he dooooesn't seem to like you all that much. I'd argue that the door might not swing that way. Why are you even asking me this?”

  
“I dunno,” Grif shrugged indifferently. “You just seem better at reading this shit than me.”

  
“Yeah, duh, but, why do you _care_ if Simmons wants to date you?”

  
Grif shrugged again. “I don't need to tell...”

  
Tucker rolled his eyes. “Dude, you've totally got a boner for him, don't you?” It was hardly a question.

  
“Pfff, gross, dude. No. I could live my life without ever talking to Simmons ever again. I'm asking you this because... I think he might have a crush on me,” he lied.

  
“Bullshit. If you were asking that you would've just said ‘I think Simmons has the hots for me’ in the first place. Listen, Grif, I don't care if you're gay, or whatever, if you want relationship advice, just ask me. I give _lectures_ on wheeling. How To Get Laid 101. With Professor Fuck. That's me.”

  
Grif groaned. “Okay, _maybe_ I like him. But don't make it weird.”

  
“You already made it weird.”

  
“Urgh. No one had to _make_ it weird, honestly, it was already fucked up to begin with. I don't even like Simmons, how can I _like_ him?”

  
“You know, dude, I'm with you on that. You wanna know kind of a secret?”

  
“Sure?”

  
“I liked Church at one point. Alpha. Epsilon was never quite the same. Less of an asshole, but still.”

  
“Church!? Are you fucking insane-- Wait, what does this have to do with anything?”

  
“Ha, calm down. I'm just saying, I relate to you with the whole ‘I thought I could barely stand this person but we've been through a lot in our forced friendship and it turns out I kinda need them’ thing.”

  
Grif was silent a moment. “You know? That actually described it pretty well. D'you think Simmons could feel the same about me, then?”

  
“I dunno, man,” Tucker looked over at Grif for a long moment as the Hawaiian boy stared out at the Valhalla sky. He hadn’t expected this from someone like Grif, but suddenly it all made sense to him. Perfect sense. He found himself getting a little emotional over the thought of Grif and Simmons as a couple. “I really hope so,” he said softly, with all the sincerity in the world.

 

-

 

“Hey, Donut?”

  
Donut stopped in front of Simmons' doorway. “Hey Simmons!”

  
“Um, can I, ask you something?”

  
“What’s the matter?”

  
“Well, it's just,” Simmons fidgeted. He was sitting in his room in the Valhalla red base. It actually got dark here, which they weren't used to, so they had been sleeping on a more regular schedule usually. They had been much less concerned with war lately, but they still kind of kept a night watch. Grif was on duty right now, and with Sarge asleep, Simmons knew this was the only time he'd be able to bring up something like this with Donut.

  
Donut came into the room and sat down next to Simmons. “You can tell me anything, pal. Don't worry -- I'll keep your secrets deeeep inside of me.”

  
Simmons began to regret his decision of talking to Donut. But he swallowed his regret and forged on. “It's about Grif... Do you think, that maybe, he could possibly be.... gay?”

  
Donut thought about it, not at all taken aback by the inquiry “Quite possibly!” he answered. “I mean, anyone could be. If Grif is gay, that's good for him! Is he not out of the closet yet?”

  
“No, he's-” Simmons sighed. “I don't know if he's gay or not, Donut. I'm asking you if you think he is. Like, do you have any evidence or anything?”

  
“Evidence? Like, pictures of him kissing guys?”

  
“No, no, like, aren't you just supposed to be able to, you know, tell who's gay and who isn't?”

  
“Me?”

  
“Don't gay guys all have some kind of like, a radar, for who's gay and who's not?”

 

“And you suspect Grif is gay?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Because he’s on your gaydar?”

“No, I don’t-- I don’t have a gaydar! You’re the one with the gaydar. I’m not gay! Tell me if he is or not!”

  
“Aww, c'mon. My gaydar is no good. It’s a myth! I was hoping yours would be better.”

  
Simmons sighed.

  
“Wait a minute.... if you're not gay, then why do you even wanna know, huh, straightie pants?”

  
“I just-- ugh,” Simmons huffed. “Fine. I kinda like Grif, okay?” he admitted softly.

  
Donut gasped dramatically. He erupted into a big, goofy smile, and made a small squealing sound. “You like Grif!!!!!” he repeated, ecstatic. “Simmons!!!!”

  
“Yeah, whatever. Don't make it weird.”

  
“That's adorable, I can't believe this! Simmons!!!!” he enthused, grabbing Simmons by the shoulders shaking him. He pulled him into a hug. “Well, why don't you tell him? You'll never know til you try!”

  
“But I-- I can't just tell him... I mean, can I?”

  
“Of course you can! And you’re going to, missy-moo.”

 

Simmons sighed heavily.

  
“And of course,” Donut continued. “He's already only your adversary, and insults you on a daily basis, so I don't think your relationship can get any worse if he says no.”

  
“Wait, says no to what? Are you expecting me to ask him out?”

  
“Of course!”

  
“What? No way! Do you know how embarrassing that is? I've never dated anybody before in my life.”

  
“It's never too late to start!”

  
“Donut, please.”

  
“Simmons,” Donut scolded. “This is too exciting. You'll never get out of this without confessing now! My inner love doctor is coming out.”

  
Simmons put his face into his hands, deeply regretting going to the bubbly blond for advice in the first place. He'd dug his own grave. He had never even considered confessing to Grif as an option before. It seemed preposterous. There was no way that Grif liked him. He didn't even understand why he liked Grif, of all people. He had no _reason_ to, really. He thought it would just dissappear. Dammit, he shouldn't have even brought it up. He was such a dumbass.

  
He eventually got Donut to leave him alone, but not before promising he’d eventually confess to Grif. Stupid. He found himself unable to sleep. He stared at the ceiling of the base. What was he supposed to say? Grif didn’t like him. There was no way he would keep that promise. No. Way.

 

-

 

On Donut's way back from red base to his home with Doc, he overheard a couple of voices in the canyon. They seemed close by. Donut squinted, trying to find the source of them in the dark.

  
There were two figures sitting atop a rock. He couldn’t quite make out their armour colour in the dark. He crept forward, curious. He situated himself behind a rock nearby, where he could hear them, but there was no way they'd see each other.

  
“Well, tell me what you think you like about him. I mean, there's gotta be some reason, right?”

  
Donut recognized the voice as Tucker. It was just blue team talking. He was ready to leave again when the other person responded.

  
“I just don't know...”

 

The voice belonged to Grif! Donut leaned back against the rock, curious.

 

“Maybe Sarge accidentally replaced some of my brain with his too, and it's brainwashing me into thinking he's cool. Ew, cool? No, forget I said that. He's not.”

  
“Come on, dude. There's got to be at least one thing that you like about him.”

  
Grif groaned. “That's the problem. There's not.”

  
“Take some time to think before you say that. I know how love works, hun.”

  
Grif made another agitated sound. There was a short period of silence before Grif said: “I like his drive? His motivation to be better and try hard. It's something I've never had. I admire that... I guess.”

  
Tucker hummed, dissatisfied. “That's a start. What else?”

  
“I like...” Grif started, “his eyes?”

  
“Get real.”

  
“His body?”

  
“Ni-ice. But seriously, dude.”

  
“See, I don't understand it! I hate pretty much every goddamn aspect of Simmons and his annoying personality--”

  
Simmons? Donut echoed. They were talking about Simmons?

 

“So why do I have it so bad for him all of a sudden? It's disgusting.”

  
“I dunno, dude. I've never liked anyone this much. I'm usually more flitty with relationships. I really want this to work out for you now, damn. Wrack your brain for more reasons. Find at least three good reasons why you like him.”

  
“Why? What's the point?”

  
“I don't know? I think it'll help. Trust me.”

  
“Fine. Uhhh...”

  
“How about when he talks about nerd stuff. Do you dig that?”

  
“Ugh, no.”

  
“When he insults you?”

  
“No! I guess I just like... I like when we would stand around and talk. It gives me sort of a nice, nostalgic feeling.”

  
“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. I mean, like you said, we’ve been through a lot together.”

 

Donut could understand the words that were being said, but the context was completely lost on him. He couldn't figure out why they would be having this conversation.

 

“And I guess I’ve,” Grif continued, “I’ve sorta come to enjoy his company? He’s--he’s sorta cute I guess. Ugh, gross, don't tell anyone I ever said that. I'll kill you.”

  
Donut gasped.

  
“Did you hear that?”

  
“Hear what?”

  
“I thought I heard-- oh, no...”

  
Excited, Donut rushed up the rock to join the pair. “Grif!!!!!” he enthused, clasping his hands together and squealing.

  
“Go away, Donut, this is a private conversation.”

  
“Well, it just went public!! You like Simmons?”

  
“No-ooo,” Grif whined.

 

“Yes, he does!” Tucker exclaimed, sounding just as excited as Donut.

  
Donut squealed again. “I have really good news!!!”

  
“Ugh. What?”

  
“Simmons likes you too! Oh, Grif, Simmons is gonna be so happy to hear this!! This is so exciting!”

  
“Wait, _what_?”

  
“He does!? How do you know?” Tucker asked, grinning with joy.

  
“I was _just_ talking to him!! He told me he has a crush on Grif!”

  
“He... he did?”

  
Donut grabbed Grif’s hand. “He did!” He glanced over at Tucker, who had a warm smile on his face. “Isn't this great? I'm going to go get Simmons, right now. Tell him how you feel!!!”

 

“What? No way! It can wait! Now that I know, I can pick the perfect time later-”

  
Donut tsked. “No, sir-ee. He needs to know right now!”

  
“No! No, he doesn't!”

  
“Grif,” Tucker persuaded. “I don't think you should put it off. There's no point. Donut, go get Simmons. I can turn Grif into one suave motherfucker before you get back.”

  
Grif looked incredibly unamused. Tucker winked at Donut, and he rushed off to go find Simmons, not before assuring, “Don't worry Grif, I'll get Simmons to confess to _you_! You don't need to do any of the talking!”

  
“That's not even the proble--" Donut was already gone. "Oh, what's the use...”

  
Tucker smiled as he watched Donut go.

  
Grif groaned in despair, hanging his head in his hands. “What am I gonna dooo....”

  
“You're gonna sit there and you're gonna let Simmons confess his love to you.”

  
“Am I? And I seriously doubt he's going to do that. You're underestimating Donut's stupidity. I'm sure he just misinterpreted something Simmons said. He _doesn't_ like me.”

  
“Okay, Mr. Knowitall, maybe he doesn't. But say he does,” Tucker grinned maliciously, “ _hypothetically_...”

  
“Oh, stop.”

  
“No, seriously, okay. Now hypothetically, if Simmons was about to confess his love to you, what would you do?”

  
“I-I don't know! Simmons is terrible with words, there's no way he's about to come up to me and--”

  
“Well don't panic,” Tucker hushed him. “Don’t panic. If Simmons doesn't know what to say, you will.”

  
“I will?”

  
“You will. Remember? Back in Sandtrap?”

  
Grif looked utterly confused for a moment, until it dawned on him. In a day of desert boredom, him and Tucker had kissed. It hadn't meant anything of course, it was just kind of a thing that happened. Neither of them thought much of it. He remembered the blunt thing that Tucker had said to him. It had worked on Grif, but he doubted how well it would go on Simmons. Then again, if Donut had already told him of their mutual pining, he was sure it would be fine. Simmons already liked him anyway, right?

 

-

 

“No. I'm not going.”

  
“Yes, you are, baby boo.”

  
“I'm not!”

  
“Simmons.”

  
“No, Donut!”

  
Donut pushed Simmons out the door of the red base. “You don't have a choice! You love Grif and he needs to know right now!”

  
“No, he doesn't! Stop it! Let go of me!!” Simmons cursed Donut's strength and his own scrawniness as he was grabbed from behind and forced to walk onward. He dug his heels into the ground, but Donut kept pushing.

  
“Nuh uh uh, mister,” he scolded cheerfully. “You are telling him right now.”

  
“Nooo...” Simmons struggled to get away, but he couldn't. He was forced to resign. He was the pink soldier's prisoner. Sentenced to lifelong humiliation. He sighed. “What the fuck am I even supposed to say?”

  
“Just tell him how you _feel_ ,” Donut said, voice light and romantic. Simmons couldn't see him, but he could practically hear him fluttering his eyelashes. He rolled his eyes.

  
“How do I do that?”

  
“Just say whatever feels right.”

  
“This doesn't feel right, it feels forced! It’s not going to-- oh, whatever. You aren't going to let me say no, are you.”

  
“Nope!”

  
Simmons sighed. “Why do you care, anyway?”

  
“I love love! You two are adorable! Besides, it's so silly for you to just pine after Grif when you know he likes you back.”

  
“Can't I just tell him, like, tomorrow or something? This is so awkward.”

  
“Trust me, now is the perfect time.”

 

Donut hadn’t told Simmons that Grif was expecting him to come now, just that he had overheard Grif and Tucker talking.

  
He let go of Simmons, and though begrudgingly, he walked on his own beside Donut. He could see Grif and Tucker atop the rock now.

 

As they approached the rock, Simmons swallowed the lump in his throat. “I sure hope you were telling the truth...” he murmured nervously. "Or I'm going to shoot you."

  
They walked up on the rock, Simmons a jittering ball of nerves.

  
“Hey, Simmons. Donut. Isn't it a little late to be out and about?” Grif had an amused smile on his face, and an eyebrow raised. Shit, Simmons thought. Since when had Grif ever seemed this cool? Ew, cool? No. Forget he had ever thought that.

  
“Grif!!!” Donut enthused, voice sing-song. “Simmons here has something to tell you.”

  
“Does he now?”

  
“Mhm! Tell him, Simmons.” He pushed Simmons forward so he stood in front of Grif.

  
Grif looked to Simmons, still smiling almost smugly.

  
Donut beamed excitedly.

  
Tucker watched from the background, hands clasped in front of him, starry-eyed.

  
Simmons stood rigid, drowning in a pool of his own sweat.

  
“Um, hi, Grif.”

  
“Howdy.”

  
Simmons wished that this pressure hadn't been put on him, but Donut did have a point. If Grif really did like him, there was no point in not telling him now. He gulped. “Hey...”

  
Grif kept staring at him expectantly. Simmons didn’t like the smile on his face. He felt like he was being mocked.

  
“Um. Right. It's-it's that, I wanted, um-- son of a bitch,” he cursed. He wasn’t good with words at all. “I- Grif, listen, I....”

  
“You...?” Grif nudged patiently.

  
Simmons frowned at Grif's uncharacteristic gentleness.

  
“I, uh...I....” he squeaked.

  
After seeing Simmons struggle for a while, Grif shushed him. “Shush.” He awkwardly put a finger to Simmons' lips. “Hey.... D’you wanna, like, go make out or something?”

  
“I...” Simmons eyes widened as he processed the words Grif has just said. “What?”

 

“Just say yes.”

 

“Yes?”

  
Tucker and Donut hugged each other, gushing and jumping up and down excitedly. Grif shot them a nasty glare.

  
“Just pretend we're not here,” said Donut.

  
“Yeah, you know, just.. keep doing your thing,” said Tucker.

  
Grif groaned.

  
“Maybe we should go back to the base...” Simmons suggested.

  
“No way, dude. Sarge is in there.”

  
“Good point. I'd rather have these two voyeurs drooling over us than have Sarge anywhere in the vicinity while we're--”

  
“Ugh,” Grif looked back over at the two over-excited onlookers. “I would still rather they weren't staring at us. Do you two mind?”

  
“Not at all,” Tucker said cockily.

  
Grif rolled his eyes. He grabbed Simmons by the hand and they jumped down off the rock. They sat down; there was a small spot of privacy behind it. Donut and Tucker didn't follow. They were still just a few measly inches away from them, but at least this spot _felt_ like it was isolated.

  
“Soo... where were we?” Grif said, totally awkward and somewhat skeptical, running a hand behind Simmons' neck.

  
Simmons still looked anxious. He moved himself closer to Grif, not sure where to put his hands.

  
Grif guided with his free hand, holding Simmons' hand against his cheek.

 

“Here?” Simmons said shyly.

  
“You've never kissed anyone before, have you.”

  
“What!? Yes-yes I have!” Simmons defended.

  
Grif smirked. “Whatever you say, nerd.”

  
Too slowly, they inched their faces towards each other until their lips were meeting.  
Simmons squeezed his eyes shut. Grif closed his, too. It was still too weird that this was him and Simmons. He placed his hand on Simmons' waist. He could feel the metal plates beneath his t-shirt. Grif was still wearing his clunky armour, but Simmons wasn’t. He rested both his hands on Simmons' shoulders.

  
Grif tilted his head, trying to initiate a real kiss, but Simmons just sat there, quivering like a leaf.

  
Grif pulled back a few inches, opening his eyes. “Open your mouth,” he murmured.

  
“What?”

  
He repeated the instruction.

  
“Like.. like this?” Simmons opened his mouth a little.

  
Grif answered him by slipping his tongue into his mouth, kissing him quite un-gently.  
Simmons didn't even seem to mind. When he started to kiss back, however, Grif knew he was done for. He tried his best, accidentally biting Grif’s tongue a few times. He had no idea what he was doing, but it sure was hot.

  
Eventually they broke apart, Grif gasping and wheezing. “Simmons...”

  
Simmons wiped the drool from his mouth. He wasn't as winded as Grif, but he was glad he was sitting down.

  
“Simmons, you're actually, really good at this...”

  
“Shut up and slobber me you asshole.”

  
Round 2 was sloppier than the first time.

  
“This is gross, you know,” Simmons said, wiping saliva off his face with his hands and wiping it on his shirt. “I don't think it's supposed to go like this,” he remarked with disdain.

  
“Shut up, what do you know?”

  
“That you're disgusting.”

  
“Well, we all already knew that. I am apparently a bad kisser, though.”

  
“You sound too proud of yourself.”

  
“Oh, please, Simmons. You _know_ I am,” Grif grinned.

 

“You suck.”

 

“Yeeeeah!!! Suck!! Haha! Bow chicka bow wow.”

  
They both looked up to see Donut and Tucker’s faces peering over the edge of the rock they were hiding behind.

  
“Worth it,” Tucker said.

  
“Have you guys been watching us this whole time!?”

  
“Uhh..... no?”

  
Grif looked up at them. “Go away! This is seriously a private conversation!!” he shouted.

  
The two faces disappeared from over the edge. The pair looked back at each other, exasperated.

 

“There's no point in... stopping, right?”

 

“Naw.”

  
Simmons laughed a little, put his hand back on Grif’s chest, stopping caring that they were being spied on. Grif shifted, not quite comfortable in his protective space marine attire. Simmons flashed a sympathetic smile.

  
Their voyeur seized the opportunity. “Take the armour off!”

  
“ _Fuck_ off!!!!”

**Author's Note:**

> the tucker and grif kissing thing is actually something i wrote a while ago for a prompt challenge i kinda gave up on haha i love their friendship so much  
> anyway thanks for reading dont forget to smash that kudos button xoxo


End file.
